Was It A Dream?
by Nights Sleepless
Summary: Peter brings Olivia the gun she asked for. Spoilers for 201. Bolivia. Rating for minor language.


Short little thing. Apologies if I seem rusty.

So the title may be a little misleading. They don't discuss her "alternate reality visitation dream thingy". It's lightly mentioned in the beginning, but not much past that. I was listening to the song _Was It A Dream?_ by 30 Seconds To Mars, and suddenly came up with this idea, thus naming it after it. It's a good song :)

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It was so strange seeing her so... unhinged. So scared, and confused. Vulnerable and jumpy. He felt a pang of... guilt? At seeing her that way. There was nothing for him to be guilty over, though. He hadn't done this to her, no way for it to have been stopped by him. Maybe he felt guilty for not being able to disengage her searching eyes. Not being able to supply her the answers she wanted. He didn't know if she had dreamed... whatever it was she was rambling about. Didn't know what happened.

His heart was still beating like it was on speed. How many times has that happened before? The beautiful girl, lying small and still in the hospital bed, as he said goodbye. Leaning in to give her a kiss he wished she could feel. And then _bam_, she comes from inches of head-butting him as she shoots to a sit, alive, and releasing a chant in Greek. Followed by a shriek in his ear. If he wasn't so weighed down with the deeper facts of the incident, he'd be jumping up and down with an adrenaline high.

As he stepped into the small hospital room, head tilted down so he could focus on the tiles, he tried to prepare himself. Why was it so hard to see her like this? Peter hated being unable to help her. Seeing her in the hospital bed would give him a stomach-punching feeling as he flashed back to her lying_ dead_ in the hospital bed. But, he had to tear his eyes up, knowing she was watching him. She was always watching him. It hardly unnerved him. Mostly just made him self-conscious and gleeful for her attention.

"Hey," he greeted, pulling on the grin he saved for only her.

"Hi..." She look so... _battered_. Cuts on her face, surrounded by equipment that beeped and blinked.

Coming over to her side, he leaned against the hospital bed. She looked up at him, her eyes still glazed over with confusion and fear. Same as they were when she first woke up. He hoped he never had to experience what he had felt again. It was like now, but ten times worse. _Brain dead, unable to revive, gone._ If he ever had to hear those words again concerning Olivia, he'd... well, he didn't know, but it would be bad.

"I... got you something," he told her, with humor. Resting the paper bag on her bed, in front of him, he looked up at her.

"Please tell me it's pie," she pleaded, the corner of her lips curving.

"Pi- what? Wh- why would it be pie?" he questioned, releasing a humorous breath.

She tilted her head. "What can I say? Hospital food is terrible."

He shook his head, opening the bag. "I think it's only terrible because you're aware that you are _in _a hospital. I bet if you ate it, unwittingly, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference. But no, what I got you is better than that," he promised. Reaching in, he grasped the object. But then he hesitated, looking at her. "Close your eyes," he instructed, impulsively.

"Why would I close my eyes?" she argued.

"Because you're gonna owe me," Peter explained, nonchalant. Sighing, she complied, and closed her eyes. Pulling out the object, he reached down and wrapped his hand around hers. She flinched, instinctively, but kept her eyes closed. Even when so battered, her skin still felt soft at the touch. Warm, and fragile. Pulling her hand up, he placed his gift in her palm, curling her fingers around it, appropriately, and reluctantly pulled his hand away.

"You brought me the gun," she sighed, opening her eyes.

"I brought you the gun," he confirmed, nodding.

He watched Olivia look at the gun, studiously. She weighed it in her hands, tested it out. He could almost see relief floating off of her. It scared him that she relied on the company of a gun at her use so much. Peter wished she wasn't so guarding. Damn selfish bastards who helped her mold her defensive walls so sturdy and high. It rivaled the Great Wall of China. Something he didn't spend so much time appreciating.

"Thank you, Peter," she said genuinely. Handing her the small box of bullets, he watched her twist around, visibly wincing, as she tucked them under her pillow. He could imagine her pulling it out quick, ready to shoot at defense. Falling back, contently, she smiled. "Really."

"If anyone asks, I didn't get you it," he joked, smiling. She nodded, something close to a chuckle escaping through her lightly chapped lips.

"Promise," she swore.

Bunching the paper bag up into a ball, he placed it on a tray beside him. He wasn't going to question her. Wasn't going to try to get her to remember, or ask how she was doing. Despite his burning desire to do so. He knew someone else would for him, and they'd get the answers. But for right now, he wasn't going to be responsible for ending this moment.

Resting his hands on the bed, he glanced out the window. "I..." Letting out a breath, he shook his head. Shifting, he turned back to look at her. She was studying him. The Olivia Dunham Mind Reading stare. After a moment, he smiled. Reaching forward, he nudged her hand, pulling up to let his fingers graze the back of it. "I'll see about that pie," he told her, humorously, before stepping back.

"You're great," she replied, smiling, but it didn't make her eyes twinkle like before the... inicident.

Nodding, he turned away. "Call me if you need anything else," he threw over his shoulder, before exiting her room. They both knew he wasn't talking about pastries.

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Okay :) so if you liked it, I'm glad you did. And if you didn't, then you should let me know what I can improve on.


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